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Quote by Elizabeth Hoyt

“You are different." She lifted a hand to delicately trace his hairline. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers tremble against his skin. "For whatever reason," she said softly, "when you are with me, you are simply Isaac and I am Coral.”

Quote by Elizabeth Hoyt

Book:The Ice Princess
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Work

The Ice Princess

This novel delves into a fantastical world where a princess is frozen in a block of ice, and the story follows the adventures of those who seek to rescue her. more

Author

Elizabeth Hoyt
Elizabeth Hoyt

Elizabeth Hoyt, born in 1970, is a renowned American romance novel author. Her works are known for their delicate emotional descriptions and captivating storylines, which have won her a large following among readers. more

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“Who are you?” Her eyes snapped open, and her voice held a hysterical edge. “Do I even know who you are?” He stepped over Walker’s battered corpse and grabbed her by the shoulders, leaned down so that his no-doubt foul breath washed over her face. “I am your husband, my lady.” She turned her face away from him. He shook her. “The one you promised to obey always.” “Simon—” “The one you said you’d cleave to, forsaking all others.” “I—” “The one you make love to at night.” “I don’t know if I can live with you anymore.” The words were a whisper, but they rang in his head like a death knell.”

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“Lazarus had never thought of himself as lovable. Therefore it should come as no shock at all that Temperance did not, in fact, love him. No, not a shock... but it would have been nice had she had some small feeling for him. Lazarus pondered his own sickening craving as he guided his black gelding through the London morning throng the day after he'd walked out on Temperance. It appeared that his own nascent emotions had provoked a new desire as well: the urge to be loved. How banal. And yet, banal or not, he could not change the way his heart felt. A corner of his mouth quirked up humorlessly. It seemed he must be like other men after all.”

Elizabeth HoytWicked IntensionsLazarussgextraordinaire
Book:Wicked Intentions
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“Ye know as well as I that I lost whatever heart I once had long ago,” Mick replied without emotion, a simple statement of fact. “If the babe lives, or if she dies, it makes no difference to me. I’ll still eat sweetmeats on the morrow and taste the sugar on me tongue, still f*ck women and feel the pleasure in me bollocks. And, Charlie—mark me well, now—I’ll still kill ye and laugh in yer ugly face as I do it.”

MickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“Mickey cursed under his breath, letting his head fall back against the wall. His c*ck still beat angrily against his clothing. Once he would’ve simply sent for a whore. Now that thought was oddly unsatisfying. He could have a willing woman, a woman who would do anything he might request of her, even the most exotic acts of sex, but instead his flesh wanted just one woman. A woman who was as fierce in her maternal love as he had been as a boy in his will to survive.”

MickeyElizabeth HoytScandalous Desires
Book:Scandalous Desires
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“She heard him close the door. “I was going to impress you with my romantic eloquence, of course. I’d thought to wax philosophical about the beauty of your brow.” Lucy blinked. “My brow?” “Mmm. Have I told you that your brow intimidates me?” She felt his warmth at her back as he moved behind her, but he didn’t touch her. “It’s so smooth and white and broad, and ends with your straight, knowing eyebrows, like a statue of Athena pronouncing judgment. If the warrior goddess had a brow like yours, it is no wonder the ancients worshiped and feared her.” “Blather,” she murmured. “Blather, indeed. Blather is all I am, after all.” She frowned and turned to contradict him, but he moved with her so that she couldn’t quite catch sight of his face. “I am the duke of nonsense,” he whispered in her ear. “The king of farce, the emperor of emptiness.” Did he really see himself so? “But—” “Blathering is what I do best,” he said, still unseen. “I’d like to blather about your golden eyes and ruby lips.” “Simon—” “The perfect curve of your cheek,” he murmured close. She gasped as his breath stirred the hair at her neck. He was distracting her with lovemaking. And it was working. “What a lot of talk.” “I do talk too much. It’s a weakness you’ll have to bear in your husband.” His voice was next to her ear. “But I’d have to spend quite a bit of time outlining the shape of your mouth, its softness and the warmth within. -Simon to Lucy on their wedding night.”

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Book:The Serpent Prince
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